


One of those days

by Triyune



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Despair, Dubious Consent, Embarrassment, Emotional Hurt, Humiliation, M/M, Masochism, Orgasm, Pain, Pain Kink, Painful Sex, Sadism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-09-23 16:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17083349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triyune/pseuds/Triyune
Summary: A collection of (short) stories dealing just with 'one ofthosedays'.Everyone's got them, everyone knows about them, and so do the Batman and the Joker.





	1. Hard times

**Author's Note:**

> Batman's POV

 

It seemed to be just another one of those days when I was glad to return home and fall into bed. Knowing that Saturday was ahead, I inhaled deeply, searching for my middle, and hit him as hard as I could. He stumbled backwards, blood gushing from his nose, but I was used to that sight and so was he. He even more, since he was even used to that feeling. And still, every time I did that, he brought a hand to his nose and wiped the blood away to look at it.

I could not tell what he was thinking at those moments, looking at the blood. It seemed to open up another world to him, though, it was beyond me what he saw in that.  
He smirked and looked up at me and I knew that within a moment, he’d jump at me to cut off my hand with his ridiculously small penknife.  
A move so quick that I missed it and the knife was in his hand which just reached back to ram the knife into my ribcage. I jumped to the side and he missed it, though, he grazed my arm. It was more than grazing since it went through the fabric and drew blood.

A graze, compared to- I dodged another attempt and finally kicked his hand so he dropped the knife and I just used the movement of my leg to convey greetings to his solar plexus with my knee. He doubled over and I sent his head crashing against the wall with the tip of my boot. He’d be busy sorting out the breathing for a while and I could take care of that cut. With him, you never knew whether the stuff with which he tried to kill you was poisoned. I got some blood on my finger and tasted it. An iron taste, nothing more.

When I looked up to check on him he hadn’t recovered yet, but I seized the moment to finish him off since he _would_ recover sooner or later and I’d rather have that later so I could call the Arkham staff to get him.  
I jumped at him and seized his throat; with my other hand I started hitting his face as hard as I could. Once, I had committed the mistake of being gentle with him, thinking that he wouldn’t survive it if I let my strength flow freely, but I had learned that my caution would only give me pain instead of him.

Again and again, his head hit the wall until I felt his body going slack. I stopped and looked at him. A sorry sight, but I knew I couldn’t help it. His eye was swollen, his cheeks a shiny red, his lip leaking blood as well as his nose and eyebrow.  
His leg was broken from before, his arm contused, maybe some ribs broken as well – the usual outcome of a fight between us. Though, I had to admit that it was not just some average fight; it had been one of those when I realized how desperate he was and how determined he was to – I didn’t know, to get hurt, to hurt me or both.

His blood-smeared hand appeared on top of mine and he tried to loosen the grip around his throat, smiling, as much as he could, making blood trickle from his lips again. I moved closer to give him a warning look. He cleared his throat and a thin stream of blood left his mouth.

“Are you content now?” he said with a coarse voice.

I could hear the blood in his lungs, in his breath. Maybe one of the broken ribs had perforated them. I snorted, thinking of the meaning of his words.

“You act like I enjoyed that,” I replied coldly.

If he wanted to play I’d be in for a bit. It served to tell me about the damage I had caused. By now, I was sure that his lungs had suffered more than I had intended them to.

“Who knows,” he whispered, which made him cough and cackle.

“I know, damnit,” I shouted at him and pressed him against the wall. I was so sick of his assumptions, his projections, his provocative hints, like I enjoyed beating him up. Sometimes, he drove me wild, especially after a long day with a 6-hour-meeting about bland, dry business shit. Admitted, sometimes, I needed that. Sometimes, I was glad to meet a willing victim I could beat up then. Mostly, it was him who showed up then and offered himself to me.  
Realizing that drove me all the more wild. I pressed my thumb against the ribs which I presumed were broken and drew a hiss from him. His pained expression told me that I had been right.

For a second, something like satisfaction tenderly knocked at the gates of my brain. I watched him trying to compose himself and straightening his back but it was impossible, the damaged ribs not allowing for any upright posture. I kept him up by seizing his throat, otherwise he’d have collapsed already.  
I took a deep breath. Biting down on my lip, I decided that I did not want to continue travelling that road and I pushed those thoughts aside.

“I’m gonna call Arkham,” I snarled at him and let go of him to take out the cellphone. Like a sack of potatoes, he sank to the floor, his legs spread with me standing between them. His head was bent so I couldn’t see much of his face, but I heard him snorting. Raspy, bloody laughter. I hated it when he did that, when I could hear the blood clumps in his voice.  
I dialled the number and let my eyes casually slide over him.  
I froze.  
I swallowed and glanced at his head again, but still, I couldn’t see his eyes. They were buried under bruises and hair.

With the phone in my hand, I knelt down and then, they appeared. Closed. His mouth had gotten stuck within a smile, as much as he was able to, at least. I licked my lips and looked at it again. It was mocking me. I couldn’t believe it. Yet, clearly standing out against the background, it was there.

All the time, could it have been that way all the time, all those years through? I refused to believe it. It turned my world upside down and my stomach as well.  
It was a joke. It couldn’t be anything else but a joke. I didn’t want it to be something else than a joke.  
I didn’t notice him slightly opening his eyes again.

Absent-mindedly, I reached for it. It had to go away, it had to dissolve into air as soon as I touched it. It had to.  
When my finger was just an inch away from it his hand shot up to grip my wrist. His eyes were tiny slits, filled with something I had not expected at that moment.  
Defiance.  
Had it been a joke, he would not have looked at me like that. I felt that he didn’t want it. And that feeling was the fuel to my fire; finally indulging in his discomfort, I put the cell phone on the floor and slowly lifted my free hand to touch it.

I could see how he tried to move his bruised arm, but he couldn’t lift it anymore. It made him grind his teeth. He had realized that he was at my mercy now and he had understood that I knew about that too.  
His body jerked before I touched it. It was this one single moment which was never going to happen again. Once the trick had been revealed people couldn’t be fooled with it anymore. I was determined to blow his cover.

My finger touched soft hardness. Through the thin fabric of his pants I could clearly feel his erect penis.  
But just for a moment.  
The next moment, it twitched and he jerked. At the speed of light, he lifted his head, bent his legs so that they collided with mine and straightened his back.  
He moaned with pleasure, loud and ecstatically, shamelessly. His nails dug into my wrist and he pulled at it. Spellbound, I watched him orgasming.

His face changed. Through the bruises, I could see something surfacing, something I had never seen there before. It was a kind of seriousness which had been sleeping under his facade. A kind of naturalness and self-confidence that I had not perceived in his aura before.  
My finger was still on that spot, causing wave after wave, making his body tremble in bliss. Cum was soaking his pants; it was like a forbidden thing, a sacred liquid. How could I ever have just caught a thought of that man together with cum if I had not watched it right now. There was a mysterious attraction, a serious fascination, a meaningful revelation, right in front of me.

He gasped and finally sunk back down on the floor. A heated afterglow in the silence of the night.  
I drew back and got some space between me and him, still kneeling. I would have reckoned with anything but that. He was leaning against the wall now, his head bent again, breathing loudly and fitfully. I heard him swallowing, then he started moving, slowly, like a snake. The moves made him cough, but he continued. He sorted out his legs first, then he tried to get up which only worked out at the second attempt. He supported himself against the wall, otherwise he’d have hit the floor again. I could see how hard it was for him to stand. I watched him. I just watched him, the phone lying on the floor next to me.

With a swift move, he shook his hair out of his face, coughed again, spat out the blood and then limped towards the corner of the street without dealing me a further look. I watched him passing by. It was not the time for words or for actions; I could feel that.  
Slowly, he disappeared in the darkness of the night. When he was gone I still knelt there, looking at the spot where I had seen him last.  
Would he ever come back?

After ten minutes of trying to sort out my own thoughts, I picked up the phone, stashed it away and took the knife he had left there. I folded it and put it in my pocket as well. Then I got up and went to my car. I drove home, parked the car, got out of my suit and into the shower. All that without me being present at all.  
I washed my hair and body, stepped out of the shower stall and towelled myself. Then, I went to bed. 

It was dark around me. Dark and silent.  
Lying on my back, I stared into the darkness. My head felt empty and jammed at the same time. Utter chaos.  
After five minutes of strange voices getting louder and louder I got up and went to the small cupboard with the liquor. Friday night; I could take the liberty of having a little drink. One minute later, I was sitting in the comfy chair in the dark with a Gin Fizz.

There were pressing thoughts, but I could not allow myself to explore them. I pinched the brick of my nose and had a sip.  
All that would stay where it was.  
In the dark.  
Unsaid.


	2. Underperformance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotham: Someone commits a crime and the Batman shows up; a natural balance.  
> However, it is one of those days when the Joker becomes aware of how easily that balance can be upset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joker's POV

Underperformance

It seemed to be just another one of those days when I felt like having lost so much that life wasn’t worth it anymore.  
The last time I had felt like that I had lost one of the few people who had been dear to me a few years ago. This time, it was even harder for me to bear a loss since the first one had come back to my mind with this new one.  
Moaning, I turned around and came to lie on my side. 

 

In fact, it had started out like any other day, not one of ‘those’ days yet. Just a regular day when I was up for fun. After a public abstinence for a few weeks, I wanted to enter the spotlight again so I had made up a plan. Just one of those. Summertime was a boring season in Gotham; the town smelt like fouling herring and the sun would barely pierce the smog of first class luxury cars and low-tech industries. Nothing on TV, just boring repetitions of operas and a pathetic flower festival in the Lake district of Go’am. Boring shit. I was up for some splish-splash.

And really, all went well, we managed to get into the fodder production factory without any fuss. Soon, we found the right tanks and poured the crazy contents of our sacks into the feed mixture. Within two weeks, all pigs would end up with reddened skin and meningitis and Gotham would face a pork shortage. Too bad, since all cattle would face the same fate. That factory was known as the main supplier of all major farmers in and around Gotham. The disadvantages of a monopoly. 

Laughing, I left. When I stepped outside again and the warm and stinky breeze hit my face I stopped for a moment. Could that possibly become one of the very few plans I was able to realize without having the Botso interfering? I gave an exceptionally loud laugh and finally followed my men who were running towards our cars. We’d see.

Just a few days later, fuelled by this success, I started planning the next thing. Often tried, never achieved. Maybe this time. Poisoning the water supply seemed like a very fun idea, especially in summer time.  
Another few days later, I stood by the pipes in front of the big tank, ready to drop the bottle. A broad smirk for a golden opportunity. I let my eyes slide over the silhouette of Gotham. Just a shithole like so many. Nothing special, in the end.

I sucked in the air and felt my shirt pressing against my chest. Still smirking, I released the air and turned around to check for the Botso. Nothing there; I whooped with joy. When I got my eyes back to that shithole I just saw the sun hiding behind thin clouds. A lazy evening. The next week would be a hell of a week. Millions of assholes writhing in pain. That was what I wished to see on summer TV, not boring series and cop stories.

With eyes gleaming with joy I searched for a dark spot in the near surroundings. He had to be there; four times I had tried that already and every fucking time he had been there to stop me. Where was the thrill if he wasn’t there? Anyway, I didn’t need any thrill, I just wanted to drop that bottle and poison the sorry asses who were just wasting air and other resources.  
A little bit insecure, I turned around again. There was no one behind me and no one in front of me.

The sun appeared again and I felt the temperature rising immediately. All of a sudden, it didn’t make any sense anymore. I looked at the brown flask, asking myself why the heck I had changed my thinking direction so abruptly.  
It was calm up there, just a faint, clean breeze making my hair move slightly. Down there, the smog was crawling through the shabby streets. A pang in my heart made me clench my teeth and hiss. Furiously, I removed the cap and threw it away, then I let the bottle disappear in the tank.

The colour of the water didn’t change and there was no gas going to heaven. No sign of anything having changed. But soon, they would notice. Bellyache and summer cholera. Bright prospects. And when they’d have recovered there’d be no piggies or cowlies to eat. Just broccoli.  
Pleased with myself, I sat down there, looking at the town again. How I hated them. I regretted not having chosen something lethal by now. But there’s always tomorrow.

I got up, wiped the dust off my pants and walked back to the car. Somehow, it was less pleasing than I had hoped it would be. Something was missing. And the thing which I was missing drove me mad. It could just be a joke. For the first time in my life it started feeling like the joke was on me.

How could he? Risking millions of lives? What the hell was he thinking? How could he answer for not coming there and keeping me from this?  
Mumbling curses, finally, I went down the stairs and towards my car. I could barely believe what was just happening but it did, whether I understood the why’s or not. For one last time, I checked the area for the tiniest spot of black, but nothing of that familiar fabric would show up at all. It wasn’t an accident that he had not been there for the second time. It was done on purpose, I understood that.

Highly irritated, I drove into the sunset, back to my flat. I tried to ignore that nagging feeling and decided to drown those thoughts in alcohol for now. Tomorrow, I’d already be sitting by the desk, planning a new cruelty. It took me barely half an hour to get to a state where I fell asleep, riding the blue, grinning rocking horse of golden Whiskey.

The next morning started out awesome. Realizing that I was lying in bed with my shoes made me a very happy man. But it didn’t matter anyway; I wasn’t someone who cared about these little everyday life tragedies too much. Why should I.  
Instead of pondering on normal lives I sat up and burped. I slid to the edge of the bed, put my feet on the ground and let my elbows rest on my thighs.  
Usually, though, not every single day, I was motivated enough to get up, thanks to a morning high which lasted till the evening. Today, I simply could not find my way through my alcohol-soaked brain.

I felt lonely, somehow. Never had anyone been to my flat except Jujo who had delivered me some shit, but otherwise, I had always been alone there. Yet, somehow, I felt it today, it was getting to me.  
Following yesterday’s plan, I got up to search for more liquor. After the first shot, the idea of blowing Gotham up came to my mind, but I scrapped it the next moment since I’d blow up the town, him included. By now, I doubted that he’d show up at the crime scene. 

Then, I came up with blasting the Wayne tower, but it seemed too childish to me. I had worked hard on my reputation and I didn’t want to be reduced to an immature, sulky loony. I gulped down a considerable amount of alcohol which would have knocked any other man off immediately, then I came up with the best idea of today. I got me another bottle and got back to bed.

Two hours later, I faced an unbearable feeling: The feeling that it was unbearable. My life had always included that one idiot, this way or that way; he had been responsible for my change and he was the one I got up for in the morning. True, I was running various businesses in the city like restaurants, brothels and even one marriage agency, but that wasn’t what kept me going. No money, no fame, no convictions. The only thing why I got up in the morning, though, not every morning keeping that so clearly in mind, was the fact that I was the darkness.

I had accepted my role, had come to the conclusion that no one else could act that so perfectly and I knew that no world could exist without contrasts. He had been there before; I had just accepted the challenge and turned myself into the contrary of him.  
No world could exist without contrasts, contraries and antagonisms. A hero needed a foe in order to be a hero. And I loved turning him into a hero, giving him a purpose to be alive as well.

Things would be easier if I just were a happy business man, enjoying the whores I was selling to rich jerks, dining in my stylish restaurants and looking at happy faces when two fuckers found each other and decided to marry with the help of my agency, but, there just was a huge but. That simply was not the life I wanted to live. A long time, I had tried to settle down and do exactly that but the boredom, the incredible dull boredom soon pinched my ass and I jumped from my throne to look for some excitement.

Unfortunately, I only found that in the wrongs of law and in teasing do-gooders with that. Their disappointed, shocked expressions never failed to amuse me. Tight asses, who stuck to the law and tried to help poor children, battered wives or drug addicts to get a new life. Gotham had many of those, of both parties, the helpers and help-seekers, and there was always abundant supply of fresh flesh since there were too many people who tried to be bad and simply wouldn’t pull it. The victims left were those who sought help.

I, on the other hand, took no prisoners. There’d no one be left seeking help if I chose to take care of it. And he knew that and that was why he always showed up to save them.  
As of yet.  
Nothing made sense if he wasn’t there. As much as I hated to admit that but I was no villain without someone who tried to bid defiance to me. 

My head hurt from the racing thoughts and I decided to think no more. I got up, faltered and landed on the bed again. However, that didn’t keep me from not thinking. I got up again, got somewhat dressed, grabbed some sticks of dynamite and left the flat. Finally safely in the taxi, I hid the blowsticks under my jacket and told the driver to get me to the Wayne tower.

“To which one?”

“To the Wayne tower!”

“Yes, but, to _which_ one?”

“What?”

“There are several Wayne towers in Gotham, Mr. Which one.”

“Several?”

“The taximeter is already running, you know.”

“Oh shut up, just get me to a Wayne tower, for fuck’s sake!”

20 minutes later, the driver stopped in front of a tower. There was a huge ‘W’ on it so it had to be a Wayne tower. I paid the driver and told him to wait there.  
When I got out of the cab I noticed that I was still reasonably drunk and that was probably the only explanation why I was here and not in bed. Relatively undeterred, I crossed the street, sparked the fuses off, went through the revolving door and faced a blonde, thin woman at the reception who asked me with a sweetly stupid smile what I wanted.

I didn’t say anything, threw the dynamite sticks into her direction and hurried out of the building towards my taxi. Safely seated in the cab, I heard screams and a huge hullaballoo for about one more minute before the reception of a Wayne tower was kindly split into big and small pieces of glass, concrete, metal and whatever it was built of.  
The cab driver turned around to look at me with big eyes.

“Was that you?”

“No, the Riddler blew up the tower and I just went there because someone had phoned me half an hour ago and told me that he’d blow up the Wayne tower and I’d have to prevent it. Riddle me this, who am I, he said, and I said, the Riddler and he said, Darn, and I said, Well, if you wanna make me riddle something don’t tell me the answer in your question straight away, and he said, Dorn, have I? and I said, Yes, stupid, you did so by saying your name after I’ve said mine, and I heard him cursing and he said, You are right, it was-“

“Sir, can you move your car away from here, we’ve got an emergency here!” an officer yelled through the open window.

“Yes, will you finally move our car away from here, you see that there’s an emergency at Wayne tower!” I told the driver as well.

“You are all crazy here!” he screamed and started the engine, “I know why they told me to not get to Gotham, but I wasn’t listening, was I. Dude, they said, don’t you go to Gotham, they’ve got real jerks and madmen there and I didn’t believe them and now I got one of those sitting in the back of ma cab, I don’t believe it, this is just crazy. I shouldav listened-“

“Shut up!!!” I yelled and he immediately went silent.

“You talk of madmen,” I mumbled and looked out of the window, watching more police arriving at the site.  
The driver finally got me back to my flat and I paid and got out of it. I turned left and headed for the convenience store where I got me more bottles of toxic content. When I entered my flat I switched on the TV and got naked again, taking one of the bottles to bed.

There was a special broadcast on the news channel where they were talking about the weird happenings at various farms in and around Gotham where pigs and cows were perishing in great numbers. It drew a mild laugh from me.  
At the same time, it reminded me of the start of a series of misery. I had just blown up a Wayne tower reception and there wasn’t a bit of satisfaction showing up in my soul. Not one bit.

Desperately, I got some more alcohol into me. Then I tried to think of a new plan but as many ideas as I had, none of them seemed to please me since there was one thing which was missing; a crucial thing. Resistance. Nothing would really work out if there was none. It was boring to break a broken straw.  
Why did he do that to me? What had I done to annoy him?

After another swig I realized that I felt terribly lonely. I could have phoned Harley and asked her out for a drink; I could have called the Riddler to have a fight with him or I could have shown my naked ass off to the Black Mask but then? My loneliness felt more profound than to be cured by a simple thing like that.  
I got up and drew the curtains; I could not stand this happy face outside the window, shiny and bright.

I staggered to the kitchen only to have forgotten what I wanted there. Restlessly, I wandered around the bed and back to the kitchen, hoping that I now would remember what I had wanted there two minutes ago. I came back without an idea what I had wanted there. When I had switched off the TV I stopped by the bed to take another swig, then I entered the kitchen again. Finally, I took a glass and threw it out of the window, listening to the sound it made when it hit the street. That had not been what I had wanted to do there but it had been nice.

I went back to the bed and fell down on it, my fingers buried in my hair, eyes closed in manic despair. It couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be happening. A single tear of anger and despair escaped my eye. That system was so fragile, so very fragile, I had never been aware of that. His absence was terrorizing. What should I do? Burn down the entire world, me and him included?

I wanted him badly. Admitting that crushed my soul and I emptied the bottle and tried to make that thought unthought.  
Wayne, Batman, the millionaire, the simple man, the businessman, I didn’t care, just one of them, just for God’s sake one of them punching my face. I had spent years with him, always at some pleasurable distance but close enough to be within reach. No word about him on the news, no picture in the newspapers, no appearance anywhere in Gotham.  
He let me down.

I tried to take my phone but by doing so made it fall from the bed. It made me see that it surely wasn’t the best idea to come up with ideas in this piss drunk state, but that was the thrill of it. While doing so and afterwards when I regretted having done it. Distraction.

“Ho ere,” I greeted the man in the phone when I had finally reached it and dialled a number.

“J, is that you?”

“O, I’mme bubblegumman, Joe. Semme Richa.”

“Richard?”

“Yess.”

“You sure? The last time I did that you called me back the next day and asked me whether I was nuts.”

“Did aye. You’rrn’t nuds. Semme Richa.”

“If you call me again and tell me that I’m nuts I’ll show you that recording I just did of our talk, okay?”

“Whatev. Semme-“

“I know!!! Richard!!! Fuck you, I wonder why I’m still here at all when I could be in Sylvan, running a nice, small cathouse, you know, with walls painted in red, huge paintings framed in gold and a sweet sound of music, with strawberry bowls and-“

I hung up and threw the phone against the wall.  
Problems. Everyone had problems. Nitty, stupid problems. Me too.

Draped on the bed like a drunken Eros, I waited in silence for Richa to arrive.  
Some time, whatever time later, Rich arrived, slamming the door open, calling for me like a super macho. When he spotted me lying on the bed he came over and sat down on me, straddling his legs and placing his ass on my crotch.

“What’s up with you, you lame dickface?”

Until the offensive words had arrived at my ears he had already grabbed my limp dick and massaged it.

“Stobbat, I dowanat.”

“Well, what then?” he asked, letting my dick fall from his hand, “A good lick? An electro dick?”

“Jus fugg me.”

“Really? That’s all?”

Something like disappointment was heard in his voice.

“And you call me for that?”

“Shuddup an do id.”

He got up and allowed me to turn on my stomach. When he inserted a finger I continued with my wishlist.

“No stretchn. Giveiduhme.”

“Ooh,” he exclaimed, “I see. We’re feeling low today, aren’t we?”

“Yor dick. Imma ass. Kay? Isat so diff...” I licked my lips and tried again, “Diffult?”

“No. Quite easy, in fact,” he answered and lifted my ass a bit. Richard had been hard since he had heard that he had to fuck the Joker into delirium yet again. It was one of those days when he’d quit all and any job just to do that. He wisely ignored the fact that the Joker was so drunken that he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. Sometimes, he just could not bring himself to feel pity for people when he wanted something so badly. His pity had never got him anywhere, least with the Joker. If he started to feel and show pity for him he could count on a gun pointing against his forehead as soon as the Joker realized that he felt pity for him.

His dick was in position, touching my anus.

“Are you sure?” he made sure again.

“Vey shuh.”

For a moment, my skin kissed air, then his dick kissed my intestinal wall.  
The pain was so sharp and piercing that I convulsed in a silent scream, digging my nails into the sheets. I caught my breath, unable to relax just an inch of my body. Within a moment, I was dead sober, distracted by pain.  
Finally, I managed to gasp.

“You still sure, Jay-O?”

I wanted to answer, but I couldn’t. Concentrating on relaxing my fingers, I remained frozen. I had difficulties sorting out the right nerve cords. Or muscle cords. That was the moment when I asked myself why I was doing that. And that was the moment I had hoped for so badly, when I would forget why I was doing this.  
Oblivion.

“Fuck me till you come,” I whispered between clenched teeth.

Straight away, he continued penetrating my ass, the blood making it easily slide in and out. And Richard was talented. He made me cry out in pain every time he pushed it in again, waiving all compassion for passion’s sake. The warm blood on my thighs and balls made me shudder. My head was empty, there was nothing but sheer terror left.  
Richard rode me until his thrusts became stiff and more forceful which just intensified my distress. I pressed my head against the mattress and submitted to the spectacle. The semen left a burning sensation on the sore skin; I could tell exactly when he came and where he came.

Richard fucked himself empty and collapsed on my back then. Sticky skin, sweat and blood. Usually, I tried to share that with someone else, but that man had forsaken me.  
His heavy body kept me from breathing. I wished to die right under him, right now.

“You okay?” he breathed into my ear.

His words pulled me out of death and I finally let go of the sheets.

“Yeah,” I breathed back, disillusioned and broken.

Richard shifted his weight and made his pelvic bone dig into my back. I heaved a groan and immediately felt the need to get rid of him, now.

“The money is on the bedside table,” I hissed, pointing towards it with a shaky finger.

“No, it’s not,” he replied, making his body fall down on mine again which just sent me back into hell.

“Fuck you, it’s in my wallet in my pants on the floor between the bed here and the kitchen over there where it-aah”

He had chosen to silence me by getting up, pushing his hand into my ribcage, for a change. I heard him searching for my wallet, then he got dressed. From the corner of my eye, I saw him glancing at me again.

“You sure you’re okay...”

“You got the money, just fuck off,” I growled, feeling the pain getting worse again.

Richard knew that his pity had never gotten him anywhere, especially if it was the Joker. Reminding himself of that, he turned around and left the room.

I sighed and let the tears flow. I blamed the pain.

It seemed to be just another one of those days when I felt like having lost so much that life wasn’t worth it anymore.  
Moaning, I turned around and came to lie on my side.  
Why wasn’t he there. Not just for a single time, not even watching me secretly. When he was there I could feel it, even if he didn’t show himself to me. But I hadn’t felt anything. 

I tried to fill the emptiness in my own way. Laboriously, I reached for my ass. It was slick and warm. I brought the finger to my lips, tasting coppery blood and salty semen.  
That wasn’t worth it, I concluded, sighing again.  
I’d have to visit him and ask him. Plainly simply visit and ask him.

“Why didn’t you come?”

“Where to?”

“I’ve killed the piggies and cows, I’ve poisoned the water supply, where have you been?!”

“Busy. Sorry.”

“You’ve never been busy when I’ve been acting like that.”

“This time, I have been busy. Why exactly are you here?”

I abandoned the idea of visiting him.  
Feeling a massive load of despair rolling over my tortured mind, I reached behind and stuck two fingers into my ass, making me jerk and wail. Breathing hard, I propped myself up and looked for the alcohol. There must have been some more. I left my ass alone and wriggled across the bed to finally fall from it.

Yes, it was one of those days which I would have loved to forget, from morning to evening. Despairing anew, I took the bottle and opened it.  
How had I ended up like that? How could that have happened? It was not within my belief of the possible that he simply wouldn’t show up on purpose. I was so used to him trying to keep me from committing shit that I had never questioned it.

“Where are you?!” I yelled into the stale air, my voice cracking.

But no one answered.


	3. The sound of the sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All it takes is one bad day to cure the craziest man alive from insanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Batman's POV  
> no warnings

**The sound of the sea**

 

It was one of those days when nothing made sense anymore. I hated these days but they had been haunting me for 10 years already. Once a year, I faced that crisis.  
I decided to get dressed and leave the city behind tonight. There was a place where I felt like I could just be myself without having anyone harming or annoying me. It was an abandoned plant, an industrial site. Years ago, it had been a chemical plant, but after an accident, the owner had closed it and since then it was just decaying, dissolving into dust and colour particles. Not a very inviting place, but it was towering over the city, built on a hilltop. The view was breathtaking if you stood on that small platform.

I drove to the hill, entered the site and took the stairs. Up there I stepped on the platform and took a few steps, heading for my favourite place behind the ventilation block with prime view.  
Suddenly, I spotted someone sitting there and I froze. Likewise, the person turned its head.  
For a few moments, I could not believe what I saw and I tried to deny it, but it wouldn’t go away. He wouldn’t go away. With as much disbelief as I the Joker was looking at me, clearly unsure about what to do now.  
For a few moments, we stared at each other, trying to figure out what the other wanted. However, when I had finally come to the conclusion that he wasn’t up for a fight and that it had been _me_ who had disturbed _him_ I came closer and sat down as well.

He watched me sitting down, like a bird closely watching the cat in order to be ready to jump and fly away if it decided to attack. But I wasn’t up for any attacks. I just wanted some quietness. Not this night. And if he had decided to send the city into a nuclear war I wasn’t going to move a finger. I was desperate enough to ignore him.   
While I sat down I snorted, feeling like laughing at the fact that we seemed to prefer the same fucked up place. It was such a big city and we had to meet up there. But I was too desperate than to laugh. I felt the same vibes coming from him so I left him alone, looking at the city. I didn’t mind him sitting there, in the end. Our meetings were always full of mysteries and strange emotions so I decided to just let it happen.

He didn’t seem to mind either. He had put his chin on his hands which were resting on his knees. Something must have unsettled him to an extent which was demanding unusual measures. I didn’t think him to be one of those who retreated to some quiet place to think about things. In fact, he didn’t seem to think a lot at all. So the fact that he was quietly sitting there, contemplating, woke my interest.

“Why are you here?“ he finally asked. His voice sounded strained and so full of emotion that I felt intimidated.

“Not because of you,” I assured him.

“But?”

“To think.”

“About”

“My life.” 

“Welcome to the club.”

Apparently, it wasn’t just one of those days for me only. Although our lives were so different I understood immediately that we entertained the same problem. I turned my head to look at the city again. So many options, alternatives, things to try out. And nothing of that seemed to be of interest to me. I lowered my head and looked at my gloves. I was doing what I was doing, for the sake of doing it. What else should I do, locked in the mind of a boy who hadn’t learnt anything else than surviving on his own by shifting numbers and clinging to a twisted concept of justice.  
I looked at the skyscrapers. So high. The glass was glistening in the dying sunlight. In vain, everything.

“I can’t quit. But I can’t continue either.”

I didn’t know what made me tell him, but the very moment when I had ended my statement I felt a little relief. It was just a little, but though. Whom should I have told. Alfred, who’d bring me a glass of hot chocolate, sit down next to me and tell me that we just had to get up after falling or Mrs. Dinge, who I was just dating in order to appear as normal and who’d refer me to her psychiatrist? There was no one I could approach about this without causing damage.

I took a deep breath and felt embarrassment rising. Actually, I didn’t want him to see me so disorganized. When I glimpsed at him I let go of that feeling since he didn’t seem to notice or mind at all. It was like a safe place where we could let go, only because we knew that the other was just feeling the same. It would have been ridiculous to try to hide that.  
The sun was about to disappear behind the hills in the distance.

“I’m done with this,” he said out of the blue, his monotone voice telling me about the extent of his own despair. He got up and I did the same, feeling like imitating his behaviour could help right now.

“Sorry,” he breathed, then he took a step over the edge.  
Gone.

For a second, my heart skipped a beat, but then I followed him to catch him. The building was high enough for a very bloody and disgusting death but that also gave me the time I needed to reach him. I pulled him close to my body and activated the rescue hook in the armour piece of my lower arm. All my high-tech-stuff was in my car, but that small thing was a constant companion, made for cases like that. It found hold in the concrete of the platform just in time so we didn’t break our legs when we arrived at the ground. It was a harsh collision though.

“What the heck are you doing?!” I yelled at him, sorting out my limbs, still out of breath from the shock.

He blinked several times, then he looked at me.

“I’m trying to kill myself, in case you haven’t noticed.”

I cleared my throat and checked my shoulder for bruises.

“Why aren’t you just standing on stage, telling nice little jokes to people?” I asked him, annoyed by his involuntary comedy right now.

“Cause they’re too stupid to get them,” he said towards the sky.

I sighed and got up. At least I knew now that suicide was not an option for me. There was still something inside which wanted to live on, no matter how or what for. A stupid little thing in my head. There had to be a way. A key to this.

“Have you ever considered taking anti-depressants?“ I asked him, my own mind just telling me that that was a very stupid question, but I had to try nevertheless.

His look changed within a second and he jumped from the ground, moving close to my face, yelling: “Have _you_ ever considered taking them? Tell me, have you?!”

My strategy didn’t work out since I had only presented him a chance to dig deeper.  
Of course I had not and I ignored his question, his sudden mood swing telling me that he was out of his mind a little more than usual.

“I’ll take you to Arkham.”

“And _what_?”

“They are specialists.”

“You kidding me, you naive fool. They’re just one generation from lobotomy-performing madmen. Specialists. There is,” he came very close to my face again, pronouncing the next words very slowly, “No. Hope.”

“Only because you haven’t found it you cannot claim that there is none!” I replied, my answer showing him about my level of despair. I was arguing with an insane about the pointlessness of the world. I felt terribly vulnerable and it just felt like he had stabbed me.

“You, and I,” he started again, taking a few steps back, a faint grin coming to his lips, “are too clever for that. But you haven’t gotten that yet. You look for the secret of life, that secret which will give you happiness and satisfaction. That secret is just in a box, locked. You look for that key all your life because you know that it will open that box and show you the secret inside. However, I have understood that when you find the key to open it you will see,” he slowed down his speech and I knew that what was going to come wouldn’t be to my liking, “that the box is empty. There’s nothing inside!” he shouted manically, his face contorted with a desperate smile.  
He gave another short, disillusioned laugh, then he wiped the dust off his jacket, straightened his vest and turned around to leave.

“I’m done with that, as I said,” he started again, “I’ll go home now and slash my wrists. Tadaa.”

Dumbfounded, I watched him walking down the hill until I realized that it was up to me to follow him. While taking the path down the hill, watching the tails of his suit dancing in the wind behind him, I started to admire him.   
He wasn’t afraid of the truth.  
I sped up until I was close to him, then I took his arm and stopped him.

“I’m not up for the repetition of the obvious,” he mumbled and tried to break free, but I didn’t let go.

“Me either,” I replied, trying to buy me some time.

With tired or bored eyes he looked at me. His muscles went slack and he turned into the epitaph of pointlessness.

“Pull yourself together!” I shouted at him, his lack of perspective getting to me since it just reminded me of my own lack. I couldn’t bear two men in that condition, I already had troubles bearing myself in that condition. And he, he outperformed me.

“What for,” he smiled mildly and mocked me with his eyes.

I closed my eyes, pinched the brick of my nose and let go. Pointless.   
When he still didn’t walk away I looked at him again. He was looking at the trees in front of us.

“You know,” he started with a voice devoid of all emotion, “even walking home seems pointless to me.”

I snorted, feeling water gathering in the corner of my eye. Why did he have to say that aloud. The thought of it hurt but hearing the words being spoken hurt even more. I thought him capable of sitting down right there and waiting for starvation. The sun had disappeared now and the air felt a little cooler.   
I didn’t know what to do. Like he said, walking home seemed pointless to me as well. I had come there to look at the city, to find a reason, a tiny one at least, in the streets of it or in the sky. And then he had been sitting there and I hadn’t seen anything. 

I knew that a business meeting was waiting for me tomorrow at 10am and that another appointment with my chief engineer was set for 1pm. And between that numbers and technical terms, sums, addresses. I was so tired. Accepting that, I turned to look at him. It could barely get worse anyway.

“Come along.”

He looked up from his pool of darkness and I passed him. I went to my car and he followed me, obviously lacking any plan. His submission made me feel proud. Just a little. His trust was something I had never earned before when dealing with him. Wordlessly, I offered him the passenger seat and he sat down. I took my seat behind the steering wheel and started the engine.   
We left the place.   
In silence, we cut through the night; he did not ask where we were going to. 

After half an hour, we had left the city behind and were on the highway. Still, he did not ask. Silently, he stared at the darkness in front of us.  
Three hours had passed like this until I took the exit and continued on a state road for another half an hour. Then I stopped the engine and got out of the car. He followed me.

A few steps and I felt sand under my feet. I sat down, took my boots off and then, at feeling the sand on my bare skin, took off the rest of the suit as well. A few meters behind me, he had stopped. I took off the mask and let it fall on the sand as well.  
I did not care. Not anymore.  
Naked, I took a few steps. The sand was still warm and moist.

A vast plane of darkness was in front of me. The sound it made was indescribable.   
I heard him undressing behind me as well. With an empty head, I stared at the surging darkness in front of me. Eventually, I started moving again, step by step, until the cold water was licking my toes. Some moments later, he was by my side. The moon was thin and not giving enough light to see any details, but I could see that he was as lost as I, eyes glued to the endlessness in front of us.

I stood there, stories of various times taking place in my head but always, the endless mass of black pulled me back into this time, standing next to a man who did not know what he was heading for either. People were said to navigate with the help of the stars when they were travelling that vast blackness, but I did not know how to. And neither did he. We were two men, beaten, abused and left behind alone, not simply questioning the course of events but life itself.

He sat down. And so did I.  
Our lives seemed so far away that it felt natural to behave like that. I just looked at him when he was rubbing his eye. Either he had gotten some sand into it or he was crying. I didn’t care because it didn’t make any difference. I turned my head to look at the sea again. There was nothing for me out there. Nothing in that sky and nothing in these waves for me. I simply couldn’t see the answer. And maybe he was right, chasing the key to open a box which was empty anyway was a wasted life. I just could not see the answer.

“I’ve never been to the sea before.”

His voice sounded like it was coming from far away, like an echo in the turmoil of the sound of the sea. The light breeze was enough to make his hair dance.

“What a wasted life,” I replied, more thoughts in my words than I intended.

I couldn’t see the answer. But he couldn’t either. In some way, I felt very close to him. Silence spread between us again and the sea touched us gently in a consoling and comforting rhythm. Like two monuments we sat there in silence, frozen. I could have stayed there until the end of time and I wouldn’t have been bored. It was special. Sharing that despair with that man felt special.

“I wished it was night forever.”

Silently, I agreed on that. The thought of the morning light made me cringe so I abandoned it very quickly and allowed myself to get lost in the sea again. I abandoned all thought of time anyway and gave in. All that which surrounded us had been there for millions of years already and we were just a flyspeck in time. I took a deep breath, realizing that the deeper I dug the less everything made sense. It was such an pervasive feeling that it reduced me to a thinking body sitting on cold sand and nothing more.

To escape that threatening feeling, I turned my head to look at him again just to see how he was dealing with that utter deconstruction of all meaning. I noticed that he had closed his eyes. I closed mine too and waited a few moments. Panic spread in my mind as I even lost the surroundings and my body then and I opened them again, deciding that I could not bear more of that.   
However, he could. Fascinated by that, I stared at him.

Artlessly, he sat there with his eyes closed, the sea lapping around his toes, burying his feet in the sand. We were leading very different lives and in the end, it didn’t even matter. I asked myself what would matter.   
I felt so lost.

Sighing, I looked at the darkness again, trying to focus on the scent of the sea if nothing constructive would come to my mind. I moved my toes a little to feel the sand and water around them, then I relapsed into motionlessness.  
Wordlessness, thoughtlessness and carelessness.

We spent a considerable amount of time like that until he suddenly got up, turned around and took a few steps only to sit down again. When I stopped by his side, lacking any other good idea whatsoever, he lay down. Understanding what he was up to, I went to fetch my suit and spread it on the sand next to him, together with the cape. I lay down on the one side and he moved on the fabric as well.   
Typically, we came to face each other. He looked at me with eyes which told me that he had not found the answer either. When I noticed that I closed my eyes. 

It was safe. Everything would be exactly the way we had left it tomorrow. No need to worry about anything.

This night, I fell asleep very quickly. I dreamed of the sea or I woke up and looked at it; I could not tell. The wind felt cold on my skin and I moved closer to the only warm thing around. Waking and dreaming, I spent the night and fell into a dreamless sleep as the sun was appearing again.  
Eventually, I woke up for good. When I opened my eyes he was lying in front of me, looking at the sky. I closed my eyes again and listened to the wind touching our bodies. Everything could be so easy and though, it just wasn’t.

The warmth of the day had returned and I turned to lie on my back as well. Somehow, I had spent that night there on the beach, next to him. I didn’t know what I had been dreaming and really experiencing anymore, the line was just blurred. And somehow, it didn’t matter anyway. I looked at him. He was watching the clouds.  
It was a sunny day with occasional shadows, but I couldn’t stand it for too long so I closed my eyes again. No need to worry about anything, not even visitors. The beach was part of a natural reserve and in fact any access was forbidden. But who cared. 

I spent the entire day on the ground, falling asleep again and again until the air was getting cooler again. When I had been awake for half an hour already he finally got up and went to fetch his clothes. He sat down on my suit again and started dressing. When he was done he got up and took another look at the sea.

“Live another day,” he said and turned around to leave.

Relatively perplexed, I got up as well and got dressed. If it had been up to me to leave that beach I’d probably still be here one year later so I appreciated his action. When I went to the car he was leaning against it, still peering at the sea from there. I got into the car and he did the same and we spent the next four and a half hours in silence.  
When the lights of the city blinded me again I decided to change. I wouldn’t play along anymore. I just wouldn’t. I would do what I could feel that was right. I would retire, leave my business behind and live the life I had always wanted to live. I decided to put my best man in charge. Always, I had been thinking that they needed me and that only I could lead them. I had been an idiot. A replaceable idiot. 

“Stop”

I glanced at him, then parked the car. It was just one of those streets of the city which you would not visit deliberately. He got out of the car without saying a word, but when he was about to throw the door shut he hesitated. He bent down to get me into view.

“You pay the toll, I pay the gasoline,” he said, finally, not grinning.

I couldn’t but lift an eyebrow.

“You forget who I am. If I didn’t have the money for the toll’n’gas I’d be in serious trouble in my position.”

“Really? Who are you?”

My smile faded. He looked at me, questioning me, challenging me, trying to get me to new insights. I hated the feeling of talking to a therapist, especially if he proved to be the most helpful one, so I looked at the street in front of me just to look back at him, defying him.

“If you happen to see Quinzel, give her my number, will you. I’m gonna talk to her about this,” I said in my usual voice.

“What a pity,” he stated, straightened his back and closed the door.

I hated his ways of communication. However, it was my fault because I had taken him along. Pissed, I started the engine again and got back to my Manor where Alfred came running towards me with waving arms and a mouthful of business names and numbers. I entered the house through the main door and as I went to my sleeping room I undressed, just dropping the pieces on the floor. 

“Sir!”

“Tomorrow is another day,” I said loud enough for him to hear it, then I closed the door and went to bed. I felt some sand on my skin and closed my eyes. The salty scent was around me and the blanket felt cool. The sea was right in front of my eyes, surging in the dark. I could hear it. But there was something else. As much as I tried to explain it I failed and eventually just accepted it. The blanket started to feel comfortably warm.  
I was sure he wouldn’t cut his wrists tonight.   
With this comforting thought, I fell asleep.

 

_____________


End file.
